By Westfield to Spain

It was midday Thursday 18th July that the final decision was made to drive to the Costa Blanca. So on arriving home from work hasty preparations began. The dog had to be taken care of first. Thanks Mom.

A phone call to the insurance company was next to check cover, and arrange breakdown cover in Europe.

The preparations to the car were next. Check that I had spare bulbs and fuses, check oil and water, put in warning triangle, there should have been two but I could only find one, a used set of front brake pads and used clutch cable packed with the usual comprehensive and large tool kit carried on a daily basis. Next came the fitting of the luggage rack, on inspection this needed repair after it's last outing, but that was undertaken in an hour, maybe a little longer.

Then the packing began, to include a sleeping bag and mat, together with a small tent, in case I needed them, there were two bags in the end, one very large one to go on the rear, the most of which I did not use, plus a smaller one with items I may require while travelling to go on the seat beside me, passport, map, camera, shoes, shaver, medication, soap, deodorant, and light coat. This taken care of a meal was cooked; I showered and took to my bed for a short sleep.

Two in the morning and I woke up, a coffee then a check that I had everything. No I had forgotten the electric kettle for the car flask coffee sugar and spoon. Another coffee then I loaded the car. The final act was to turn off the water. I drove to the local garage filled the tank and drew out £200 from the hole in the wall. The time is now nearly three, so off I go, a quick stop on the Ml before the M25 to fill up the tank again the first of many. I should mention that the hood was off from the start, I was wearing thermal vest long John's heavy fleece and flying jacket, with hat with ear covers, and was not feeling over warm at around four in the morning gloves were also worn, I forgot to turn off the M25 so had to retrace my steps back to the M20 then on to Dover, where I filled up again including the spare can, time is now 5-15 am. Into the docks and begin to try and arrange passage to Dunkerque, after much searching I found the freight office of Norfolk Line who were the cheapest £210 and after a little chat and showing them the size of the car it was agreed that a space could be found in among the lorries, there was concern when I went to drive on that I may not have enough ground clearance, but I made it without any scrapes on the bottom. The ferry left port at 8-151 put my watch forward one hour for when we arrived, and went for food, and changed the cash I had into Funny Money.

At 11-30 we docked and I had by now shed the flying jacket for a lighter coat also the hat and gloves. The first two hours saw me cover 136 miles and then I refilled the tank. My one objective was to try and avoid toll roads as being solo and on the wrong side would create payment problems, as well as additional cost. I was well pleased with my progress so far a good average speed on the first section. I was however realising that my map was well out of date and was relying on a compass reading off a global navigation system that was also showing me on none existent roads, I found myself on a toll road in the Le Mans area short of fuel so a hasty exit was made in order to find some, exactly where I was not really sure at all, but I was enlightened by the attendant, very nice to have your tank filled for you. I had indicated to him that I wished to go to Bordeaux. He had pointed out the toll road that I did not want, this meant going to Tours, I wanted the series of D roads down to Noir. I found a road to Saints and on towards Bordeaux The first major error occurred along this section I missed a turn and went to Rocheforte, I had also developed a rattle and scream from the alternator, inspection found a broken bracket as suspected it had happened before quite recently and a new one fitted so I am not to happy at the life of this one. A direction is found for a toll road to Bordeaux and to save further time I followed.

I stopped at a service area just north of Bourdeaux. took on fuel and food finished the contents of my flask and refilled it with water it is now 10 pm, so I decide to rest up for a few hours so as to negotiate Bordeaux in the light, I have covered 650 miles in France-Sleep was taken by parking the car in the picnic area near some bushes at the service area, I lay down in the grass after another coffee that I had made using my own catering facilities, the coffee out of the machines was not good and French style mini portions, not to my taste at all. I was awoken by some movement near me, it turned out to be a trucker taking a leak; we were both surprised to say the least, if he had turned to his left I would have got wet.

It was 4 am and I could hear a lot of traffic moving down the road so I decided to restart. I reached the end of the toll road very soon to be confronted by long queues, the first ever I have encountered in France, it took one hour to get through, I was regretting my stop. The City was negotiated without problem, looking for directions for Bayonne, the only incident being a man crossing the road on foot from my left several yards off the pedestrian crossing at an intersection that I had to turn right at, he stopped before reaching the curb to take a good look at the approaching car he nearly had a ride as well, the drop in my speed was nil and my direction the same, his movement was swift but very late, I don't know what he shouted but I can guess, my thoughts were sorry, but I am a man on a mission.

The weather changed, soon I was driving in thick damp mist, very little visibility, lights, heater, wipers, and a scream from the fan belt, this was for the best part of one and a half hours, by which time fuel was low and I had not seen a station open, the engine eventually stopped, nothing to be seen anywhere, so the spare can was used. Within a mile of restarting a station was open, so the tank and the can refilled, and another coffee brewed. I was now getting closer to the section of the trip I was really looking forward to, the winding climb up the Pyrenees to the border crossing, the weather has now improved and the sun is shining. I have put on the shoulder straps to my harness for the first time instead of just the lap strap that I have the habit of doing until I get serious about my driving. I am now coming up behind several other cars, looking up the inside as well as the outside to get visibility of the road ahead, dispatching them quickly and easily with safety, a minority tried to keep me behind but only lasted a short time usually being taken on a bend that could be seen round with the back of the car sliding out then snaking as you applied more power as you straitened up, great fun and I would think most upsetting to the drivers of certain BMW's, Mercedes, Audi and an Opal Vectra. Then it happened. Two men dressed in blue waved me down, I was told the speed limit was 50 k after I told them I spoke no French and one had little English, I pointed to the speedometer it has no kilometers on it, he said 30 mph and said I had been doing over 160 k, all the time they are walking around the car looking it over, driving documents are inspected, and I am asked if this is a race car, the answer is sometimes, next question is it difficult to drive, answer not if you know how to, but the rear is a little lively, I would give you a ride but the seat has bags on it and so there is no room. I am sent on my way with a reminder to reduce my speed; I did for a short time. I soon caught up with all the cars I had previously passed, this time they moved over very obligingly as soon as I got near.

On reaching the top it was before mid day Saturday and at the boarder crossing I stopped and phoned Westfield about the broken mounting to confirm they had one and complain about its short life, they said they had and would dispatch it to me and how was I paying, the answer being that payment would have to be sorted and a delivery address sorted as I was in Spain. Next call R A C to inform them, and to ask that they arranged collection and delivery to my sisters address that I had now also phoned to say I was on my way to see her. The voice was one of surprise, confusion, and a little anger as I had not told her till now. I restarted after more coffee heading for Huseca, Zaragoza, Teruel, Valencia, then down the coast Altea.

After Teruel I caught up with two bikers that I later found out had come from Blackpool, and a more rapid pace was acquired I had by now striped to the waist and was sweating with the heat but the car was not overheating, and I was getting more to the gallon, oil pressure had dropped a little, but not enough to cause concern, a series of overtaking then took place between us me passing on bends and them going passed me again on the straits.

We had chance to talk to each other when we stopped for fuel there was a long line of cars etc. waiting to use the pumps, the comment passed was well we must have covered 80 miles together that car goes well but I have more. No I could not hold him in a strait line with him lying flat on the tank. But I could out brake and comer better.

On trying to restart the car I could not, a stone or something had cracked the end of the starter solenoid causing a bad connection; this was rectified using plastic tie straps that I had with me. 1 completed my journey at 6-30 pm distance covered 1420 miles, 8 stops for fuel estimated 48 gallons 29.5 miles per gallon average speed 52.5 mph. After I allow for the time spent at Dover docks and my sleep in the bushes, a check next morning revealed I had used close on I Iitre of oil and half a litre of water.

Sunday 21st of July's morning saw me looking for accommodation. This was easy a villa sleeping six was the first offer, I took it till the 1st August, this was paid with the change I had left out of the £2001 had changed into Euros, out of which I had purchased, a large bar of chocolate, a four pack of red bull, breakfast, coffee & sandwiches, and a pack of twenty fag's, and I still had change left.

1 left Spain at 6pm on the 1st August after a day on the beach & swimming. The return trip was as very eventful, certainly no anticlimax. The route planed was, Murcia, Albecete, Cuenca, Quenca, Guadulajarr, Soria, Lograno, Pampalona Irunea, Bayonne, Bourdeaux, Saints, Poitiers, Tours, Le Mans, Rouen, and on to Dunkerque, and back home.

Everything was good till Albecet , then road signs to Cuenca were not to be seen, so use of the global navigation unit was used. By using its compass facility I headed in the right direction, but the road I was on was the wrong one I needed to be further north, so a left turn was taken. This road went through several villages that 1 had no listings of. The building were set back about a yard off the road, and it would seem they had all been dropped from above and then a road threaded through with what appeared to be a dead end having a ninety degree turn one way followed swiftly by the same again in the other direction. People were sat on their doorsteps drinking and watching the children playing. A very relaxed holiday atmosphere about it all and it was around 9pm. It was in one of these hamlets that there was a minor accident, the car obviously created a lot of interest as it passed by, but when two cyclist coming towards me, one with a girl on the handlebars in front of the other decided to stop and the other did not a large tangle of bodies and bikes, was the end result. Another village, and this time the road did end with a load of shale in front of me. Two young lads on motorcycles came to my rescue and led me through a maze of streets at the end of these, there again was this shale, but with a graded access onto it they indicated turn left along it. So I did I thought that it was a short section of road repair, it was now dark How wrong could one be? These road works lasted for an hours running, dust all around the sides and behind, and if you slowed down or stopped you choked so I dodged around the pot holes climbed steep sharp gradients one of these required 1st gear and all that could be seen ahead were the stars, what was lying ahead hidden by the bonnet, until it thankfully levelled out and not drop off to a huge pit. Eventually a proper road was again available, and I arrived

in Cuenca and there were directions posted for Guadulajarr, it was after mid night and before I reached Guadulajarr. I had to stop for sleep. I remained in the car and sleep soon came lasting till 5-30am when I woke with the smell of petrol very strong. A stain could be seen spreading from the rear of the car, looking underneath a rapid drip could be seen coming from the outlet pipe. Thankfully nothing too serious, a rubber connecting pipe appeared to be the cause, so I drove into Guadulajjar and found street lighting and an area of sandy soil to park on where I unbolted the boot box and gained access to the offending pipe and was thankful that my original conclusion was correct, and nothing more serious than the rubber connecting pipe. This was removed and the section that had split cut out and just enough left to complete the connection. So its into a filling station refill the tank and away again. wondering what the rest of the day would be like. Yesterdays journey had consisted of road surfaces of tarmac, and shale, very little traffic, after leaving Albecete, I may not have seen one car in an hour, there had been long undulating straits disappearing into the distance, and twists and turns to temp you to play.

The roads were much the same again, I passed a Renault Clio on a long climb and a few miles further on he caught up with me again on a descent. I was holding the engine around 3500 r p m for economy due to the drag factor of my load. Another climb and he drops back, this continues for around 30 miles, when he eventually passes me on a step descent and disappears round a left hand bend from where suddenly a cloud of dust blows towards me, I slow down and as I round the comer there he is upside down in a ditch against a wall. I stop and get out to help the occupants, when a man appears from behind the wall and begins to rant and rave at me, not a word did I understand but I feel I was not very popular, so before the occupants of the car got out and involved as well, I got back in the car and continued my journey, I saw nothing in the way of other transport or habitation for an hour, and had passed no other major area for at least an hour before, so if help was summoned I don't know from where it came.

Later on along one stretch of road there were several little work parties taking measurements accompanied by flag waving companions to slow you down, I obliged and soon had Spanish white van man behind me very close, at one of these work stations I slowed as usual and he passed me, but this time it was different it was not measurements being taken, but a construction lorry pulling out of the trees onto the road, it was close and I bet he felt a - - - - The climb and descent through the mountains with the snow poles either side of the road was exhilarating, and views stunning.

I got lost at Imn near the coast again trying to avoid the toll route, with the use of the compass I did eventually get back on track and avoided the toll. It cost me about three quarters of an hour, and the traffic encountered after made me wish I had not taken this alternative. Just before Bordeaux I stopped for a good hour feeling very tired and rested, the majority of traffic was now going in the opposite direction and it about 5-30 pm.

I stopped between Poitiers, and Tours for a steak with pepper sauce, an English woman in there told me it was horse meat after I had finished, but I don't care it tasted good. I restarted and it began to rain. Visibility was poor in the dark and with oncoming lights and wipers my eyes soon started to close so I pulled over just as it stopped raining, took off the steering wheel pulled me tonneau cover over me and sleep then lasted till 4-30 am.

I began driving again and reached Le Mans at 6 am. Directions other than for the toll road were not to be seen so after an hour of searching I gave up and used the toll. Cost was less than 1 Euro, I ran out of petrol between there and Rouen and had to fill with the spare can, no garages were open so I pulled off the main road into a village and refilled the tank and can again. Another section of toll road was taken this time a little under 2 Euro.

Rouen was reached and I followed the directions for Dieppe as it was in the general direction I wanted to go, and eventually a direction for Calais via a toll. No argument with myself this time, I took it and arrived in Dunkerque at 12-30; no waiting strait onto a ferry and sailing by 1 pm. The cost of the toll fees approximately £7-50.

There were bad accidents on the M20 & M25 but in the other direction, but it slowed me down seeing carnage lying in the road. The return from Dover to Telford taking nearly 4 hours.

Yes I will do it again I enjoyed it as much the third time as the first and each time the route has changed at some point. The only thing that would make it better would be another one or two Westfield's or similar in company.

The hood was not used once the whole of the time and because of the speed not having to drop to a low level I only got slightly damp on the return, this soon dried with the wind when the rain stopped and the sun came out again. The mileage covered on the return was around 1,600 miles and fuel used approximately 58 gallons, 9 tank refills at an average of £16 / £16-50 per tank full France £ 14 per tank in Spain.